I wanna do bad things to you
by sephirothflame
Summary: Famine is kicking in and Sam wants more than just demon blood. Things start to get complicated when it turns out not to have been a one time thing, though. Sam/Castiel.
1. I wanna do bad things to you

Title: I wanna do bad things to you  
Author: Sephirothflame  
Rating: R  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sam/Castiel, Dean  
Warning(s): Spoilers, Basically PWP, Slight AU, Dub-Con, Public Indecency (haha)  
Spoiler(s): 5.14, "_My Bloody Valentine_" - I'm going ahead and abusing Famine as a plot point. It's all his fault.  
Prompt(s): Anon at the spnkink_meme wanted _Sam/Cas, handjob under the table in the restaurant booth. Either one can be on the receiving end!_  
Word Count: 1,367  
Rants: My first SPN fic~ Also, kind of embarrassing that I jumped straight to porn with a new fandom. /cheeky-grin  
Disclaimer: SPN is property of it's rightful owner. I'm just here to grope Cas some.

ETA: Now Beta-Read by the ever helpful and amazing **waveringphoenix**.

* * *

"So, what," Dean says, looking down at his burger as the cute blond waitress places it in front of him, "You just happen to know he likes the cosmos at this place?"

"This place is a nexus for human reproduction," Castiel corrects. He's scanning the room and knows the Cupid will be here, but he's having a hard time focusing. He can smell Dean's burger and it's making his mouth salivate. That, and Sam's knee keeps bumping him under the table and sending warm tingles up his leg and to his spine. "It's exactly the kind of garden that Cupid would come to – " he's staring at Dean's burger and the excess amounts of ketchup, would keep staring but Sam bumps him again and this time his leg stays pressed against his own, "-to pollinate."

Sam looks at him, something in his eyes that Castiel doesn't recognize but before he can put much thought in it, Dean's pushed his burger away and Sam's giving him his pouty face. The burger is taunting him, Castiel knows it, and he stares at it.

"Wait a minute," Sam says, incredulous, and Dean looks at him confused. "You're not hungry."

"No," Dean replies, and Sam just can't help but to stare at him. "What? I'm not hungry."

Sam might have the patented bitch face, but Dean can sound just as pissy when he wants to. Like right now, when Sam's hounding him with silent disbelief and concern.

"Then you're not going to finish that?" Castiel asks, startling Sam and Dean from continuing their fight. He doesn't wait for a reply before stealing the plate, and the brothers stare at him.

"Help yourself," Dean says, watching Castiel attempt to devour the burger in as few bites as possible. He looks to Sam, who just shrugs, before he shakes his head and sighs. "How long are we going to have to wait for him?"

"No idea," Castiel says around a mouthful of food. It's disgusting and Dean feels like he's supposed to yell at him, but he's not one for playing Mom so he just ignores it. "This is good."

"Wouldn't know," Dean replies wryly, resting his chin in his palm and glancing over towards the cute waitress. Sam takes Dean's distraction as a chance to rest his hand on Castiel's thigh and the angel startles bad, jarring the table and choking on his burger. "Jesus Christ, Cas, you gotta chew!"

Castiel swallows, almost painfully, his cheeks flushed. Dean must assume it's from his "near-death experience", because he doesn't comment. Sam's hand is hot where it's pressed against Castiel's leg and when he decides Castiel isn't going to push him away; he moves his hand closer to the angel's groin. His breath catches in his throat, and he stares at Sam with wide, confused eyes when he starts tracing his fingers slowly up and down the seam of his slacks.

"So, Cupids, huh?" Sam asks. He flashes a discreet, knowing smile to Castiel and even Castiel's not naïve enough to miss the lust in his eyes. Sam squeezes Castiel's thigh before kneading the flesh and Castiel shoves fries in his mouth to keep from making a sound. "That seems a little cliché for the time of year."

"No kidding," Dean snorts, shaking his head. "It's like something out of a bad thriller movie. The only thing we're missing is David Boreanaz."

"I can't believe you just made that reference," Sam snorts, shaking his head. His hand slips farther up until his palm is pressed flush against Castiel's cock and he smirks when he feels how hard Castiel is.

Castiel can't shove fries in his mouth fast enough.

"Are you feeling okay, Cas?" Dean asks, frowning.

Castiel nods and continues to shove the last of the fries in his mouth.

"Right, whatever." Dean says, rubbing his eyes. "I'm going to hit the head."

"Right," Sam repeats, watching Dean leave before picking at his own dinner absentmindedly. He flashes a lecherous smile at Castiel, who shifts uncomfortably.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asks, his voice even lower than usual, and he doesn't like the way the gravely tone seems to inspire Sam even more. He doesn't stop Sam from squeezing and he doesn't catch the low moan before it leaves his throat.

"You can always tell me to stop," Sam replies in a low, husky tone. And hell, if Sam's going to talk like that, Castiel is incapable of telling him to stop. "Do you want me to stop?"

Castiel is startled by the question, and he shakes his head 'no'.

"So relax."

Castiel doesn't know how to relax. He stares at Sam with wide eyes when the taller male loosens his belt and pops the button on his slacks. He wants to say something, knows he probably should, but he doesn't know what to. Castiel grips the edge of the table until his knuckles turn white.

Sam tugs Castiel's zipper down and slips his hand into Castiel's briefs, curling his fingers around the angel's cock.

Castiel bites back another moan and clenches the table even harder.

If it was anyone else, they probably wouldn't have time for this, but Dean's already told Sam about Castiel being a virgin. He's counting on that fact, and he inches closer to Castiel pressing their legs completely flush together as he starts stroking.

Castiel stares at him with wide, hazy blue eyes, and Sam watches the way he keeps clenching and unclenching his jaw in order to stop from making a sound.

And wouldn't that be terribly awkward, if they got caught because of Castiel's trembling moans? Sam knows they aren't being very discreet, knows Dean could come back any second now, but he can't bring himself to care. Not with the way Castiel is rocking into his fist, tongue barely visible between his lips as he bites down on it, his breath ragged and thighs clenching.

Sam strokes faster, squeezes harder and Castiel is practically doubled over when Sam thumbs his slit and he comes all over Sam's hand, a pathetic sob caught in his throat. Sam wipes his hand on his napkin, watching as the angel struggles to catch his breath. It's now when Dean makes his way back from the bathroom, and Sam believes there must be a God, because his timing couldn't be better.

"You okay, Cas?" Dean asks, sounding genuinely worried. "It's like a freaking ladies room in there, by the way, a guy shouldn't have to wait in line to pee."

Castiel nods his head tentatively and doesn't quite make eye contact with Dean as he does so. Sam claps him on the back roughly, which causes the angel to glare. Sam smiles, as innocently as he can and says, "You really shouldn't eat that fast, man. Or learn to chew. Whichever."

There's a retort on his tongue, but Castiel bites it. He can blame Sam for all of this, but that would be so awkward to admit in front of Dean and he doesn't think he'd ever be allowed around Sam again. Even if all of this _is_ Sam's fault. Which reminds him, his pants are undone, and he has to fix that discreetly, glaring at Sam while he does so.

There's a flutter overhead though, something Castiel can feel even if he can't see, and his eyes flick up and around the room. "He's here," He says, and the brothers stare at him. The Cupid. The entire reason they were here.

"Where?" Sam asks and it's like someone has flipped a switch in his brain. He's all business now, and Castiel really appreciates that. "I don't see anything."

Castiel's eyes are scanning the room, the ceiling, searching for a discrepancy and the brothers watch him closely. "There," Castiel finally says, nodding towards a man and a woman as they start to make out.

"You mean same side of the booth couple over there?" Dean asks, following Castiel's gaze.

"Meet me in the back," He says, and he's gone before either Sam or Dean can say anything. He's going to capture the Cupid, stop him, but a smaller part of him knows he's just using this as an excuse to get away from Sam.


	2. The decisions that we make

Title: The decisions that we make, part two of six in the "_Bad Things_" 'verse  
Author: Sephirothflame  
Rating: R  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sam/Castiel  
Warning(s): PWP  
Spoiler(s): 5.15, "_Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid_"  
Word Count: About 1,782  
Beta Reader: **Waveringphoenix**  
Rants: More shameless porn. I should be ashamed of myself. I swear I'm working towards a plot, though, it might be another two parts before I get there.  
Summary: Sam's trying to wash zombie brain out of his hair when Castiel shows up.  
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN. There'd be more naked Cas if I did. /grins

* * *

If Sam has to be honest, there are a few things he hates more than zombies; like witches, or demons, or the way the Impala smells after Dean gets a burger with everything on it. Right now though, he's thinking, more than he hates zombies, he hates cleaning zombie gray matter out of his hair. Oh, and he _really_ hates his brother Dean for shoving him out of the way and taking the first shower. A guy shouldn't have to sit around and watch cable with brain in his hair because his older brother is a douche bag.

Dean wasn't being as much of a bag of douche as he could have been, all things considered, which is kind of nice. There was still hot water, which was rare, considering this was _Dean_, and Sam thinks he might be able to forgive him for stealing the first shower.

He has just started to relax under the spray, in a decidedly much better mood now that he's clean, when his mind starts to wander. It's been a long week, zombies notwithstanding, and they haven't heard from Castiel since the whole Famine incident. Which, probably was Sam's fault, but it wasn't like Castiel had _told_ him to stop.

Castiel. There's a happy albeit confusing thought. Sam knows he should be more concerned with the fact he might have just lost them their biggest ally in this stupid apocalypse but he can't think about the angel without remembering the look in Castiel's eyes as he jerked him off under the table.

Which is a _really_ happy thought and Sam briefly wonders if he has time to jerk off before Dean yells at him through the door that it's time to go. The answer is probably no, Dean's been kind of a bitch, and Sam turns around to shut the water off and almost has a heart attack.

Standing fully dressed and completely dry under the spray of warm water is Castiel, and if looks could kill, Sam should probably drop dead right about now.

"What the hell-" Sam stutters, surprised to see the angel standing so close to him and in such an intimate setting.

"What have you done to me?" Castiel demands cutting Sam's sentence off.

"How long have you been standing there?" Sam counters. _It's weird_, he thinks. He's taller than Castiel, he knows he is, but the angel is intimidating even in the small space, easily cowing him into the corner of the shower.

Castiel doesn't answer him, which doesn't surprise Sam in the least, but it's intimidating to have Castiel staring at him so intensely when he's naked and sopping wet.

"Cas," Sam says, swallowing. "What's going on?" He knows it probably shouldn't be, but this freakily dominant Castiel is turning him on way more than it should be. It's got to be painfully obvious, even for someone as seemingly oblivious as Castiel.

Castiel moves his hands to touch Sam, and then hesitates, looking suddenly unsure of himself. "What have you done to me?" Castiel asks, softer this time, and he goes from looking intimidating too terrified in the blink of the eye. Castiel's got the most expressive eyes Sam's ever seen.

Well, this has got to be the most awkward thing to happen to Sam in a long time.

"Cas," Sam says softly, lifting a hand to touch the angel's face. The angel's eyes go wide, but he lets Sam touch him, staring. Castiel's skin is hot and Sam fights back a shudder. He's cold and wet, and without thinking, he moves closer to Castiel, presses against him to feel the heat radiating off of him.

"Sam?" Castiel asks softly, craning his neck to look Sam in the eyes.

Sam can't meet Castiel's gaze, not if they're going to be standing this close to each other. He acts without thinking, closing his eyes and kisses Castiel. Castiel's lips are dry and soft under Sam's and Sam isn't sure if the angel isn't kissing him back because he doesn't want to or because he doesn't know how. He sighs against Castiel's lips before breaking the kiss.

Castiel is still staring at him.

"Do you want me to stop?" Sam asks, which is funny, because he's pretty sure he asked Castiel the same question last time, and once again Castiel shakes his head, 'no'. "What do you want?"

"I don't know," Castiel replies after a moment's hesitation. "You confuse me. You..." He furrows his brow, trying to think of how to explain himself. He sighs, and looks at Sam pathetically. "What have you done to me?" He asks for a third time.

Sam opts to kiss him again, instead of answering, and after a moment's hesitation Castiel does his best to mimic Sam's actions. He traces his tongue against Castiel's bottom lip, surprised when the angel parts his lips, and Sam slips his tongue into Castiel's mouth. Their tongues touch, timidly at first, and Castiel makes a pathetic sound. His inexperience is more adorable than erotic, but Sam won't let that deter him. He thumbs the angel's cheekbone before dropping his hands to push Castiel's trench coat off of his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Castiel gasps, pulling away from Sam to fix his coat.

"This works better if you're naked, too," Sam replies.

Castiel stares at him then, blankly, before letting his gaze drop. He flushes a brilliant red, as if just realizing Sam's naked, and it goes straight to Sam's groin.

He leans forward to kiss Castiel again, and this time the angel lets Sam push the trench coat from his shoulders and it falls to the shower floor with a surprisingly loud 'thump'. His suit coat follows shortly after, and it's only then that Sam realizes Castiel's hands are still at his sides. Sam bites Castiel's lower lip harder than he needs to and Castiel whimpers, pressing himself tighter against Sam. It makes taking his shirt off difficult, but Sam is nothing if not dedicated and both tie and shirt soon make it to the steadily growing pile at their feet.

"You can touch, you know," Sam says when they part for air, licking his lips as he guides Castiel back, careful not to trip over the angel's clothes, until Castiel's back is against the wall, Sam pressed against him.

Castiel makes a small sound, one Sam isn't sure how to classify, but tentatively puts his hands at Sam's hips.

Sam laughs, pressing his lips against Castiel's again in a quick kiss before leaving a trail of kisses across his cheek and down his jaw. He nips gently, enjoying the way Castiel squirms beneath him as he runs his hands across the angel's torso and down his side. His skin feels like it's on fire where it's pressed against Castiel's. He wants to touch every inch of him, wants to leave more than a few bite marks down the angel's neck and across his chest, but he doesn't have the patience for it. Not when Castiel is arching against him, moaning in his ear like he is, anyways.

It isn't fair, Sam thinks, that Castiel's belt and slacks are still dry under his own slick hands as he undoes them. The angel is just as hard as he is, Sam can feel it even through the layers, and he barely has the coherence to tug and shove the angel's slacks and briefs down to his knees before he wraps his hand around the angel's cock.

"Sam," Castiel moans into his ear, hands moving from Sam's hips to Sam's back, struggling to find purchase as his nails slip and dig into slick skin.

Sam grunts in response before tugging one of Castiel's arms down, curling his finger's around Castiel's hand, and finally wrapping the angel's hand around his own cock. Castiel gasps and Sam has to wonder if Castiel has ever even touched himself let alone another guy and buries his face in the crook of Sam's neck, pressing sloppy kisses against Sam's skin. It's a nice feeling, something Sam can get used to, but now isn't really the time to think about that, not when he's got a fistful of angel.

Castiel's got a one track mind, apparently, at least when it comes to this. He's bucking and writhing under Sam's expert touch (Sam's never done this with another guy before, doesn't want to think about why he's so good at this) but Castiel doesn't seem to have the focus to return the favor beyond a few halfhearted strokes.

"Cas," Sam groans pathetically, biting none-too-gently the angel's shoulder. _Come on_, he thinks, because it isn't like it's that complicated. Castiel makes a pathetic sound, something that was too much of a moan to be a whimper, and Sam squeezes the hand he has wrapped around Castiel's fingers tighter.

Like last time, it doesn't take much from Sam to get Castiel off. The angel is clinging to him, nails digging into Sam's back and he makes the most delicious sounds ever when he comes. Then - it's messy and sloppy and not the best Sam's ever had but he manages to help Castiel get him off in a reasonable amount of time. It's not mind blowing, but Sam slumps against Castiel exhausted all the same.

They share a number of surprisingly gentle kisses as they both struggle to catch their breaths, resting forehead to forehead. Sam sighs, smiling against Castiel's lips, and he can feel Castiel's lips twitch into a smile in return.

He wants to say something, is about to, but when he opens his mouth to tell Castiel _something_ the angel's gone and Sam slips and bangs his head against the shower wall. A string of curses spills from his lips, and he presses a hand to his head, wincing. He turns around, but Castiel and his clothes are gone, and it's just Sam standing under the luke-warm spray from the shower.

"What the fuck?" Sam asks no one in particular.


	3. Too much is never enough

Title: _Too much is never enough_, part three of six in the "Bad Things" 'verse  
Author: sephirothflame  
Fandom: _Supernatural_  
Rating: R  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sam/Cas, Dean  
Warning(s): WTF - is that a plot?, Adult Situations, Language, Sam apparantly has a voyuer!kink  
Spoiler(s): 5.16, "_Dark Side of the Moon_"  
Word Count: 2044  
Beta Reader: **waveringphoenix**, as always.  
Rants: Did anyone else notice these parts are getting steadily longer? Also, Lisa, did you see what I did thurr?  
Summary: Castiel's been avoiding them again. Sam is beginning to question their situation.  
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN. Kripke does.

* * *

Sam's still standing under the spray of water when Dean bangs on the door yelling at him to "gtfo" and get ready to leave. As he turns off the water he can hear Dean complaining on the other side of the door about ridiculously long showers and awkwardly loud masturbating.

Sam wonders what Dean would do if he told him the truth, but he values his own life too much to seriously do it. That, and Dean would want to know _why_ and Sam honestly isn't sure. The first time, in the restaurant; under the table, Sam couldn't help himself. He _needed_ to do it, just like he _needed_ the demon blood. Just now in the shower? How the hell was he supposed to _resist_?

He sighs as he gets dressed and tries to ignore the scratch and bite marks Castiel had left across his shoulders, neck, and back. If this was going to keep happening, and Sam kind of hoped it would, he was going to have to talk to the angel about subtlety.

* * *

Another town, another case. It's a routine salt and burn, nothing they can't handle on their own, but it still feels strange without Castiel looking over their shoulders. Sam's gotten so used to him hovering around awkwardly that life just feels kind of empty when he isn't around. Dean's noticed too but he isn't enough of a teenage girl to call the angel and ask why he's not around anymore.

Sam knows why Castiel isn't around, and he also knows it's his fault.

_"What have you done to me?"_ Castiel had asked.

What had Sam done to him indeed? He's starting to think he maybe shouldn't have jumped Castiel in the shower right away. The angel had been freaked out and Sam had ignored it. Sam is the worst friend in the history of terrible friends.

* * *

It's another two weeks before Dean finally snaps. It was a tough case, witches this time and Castiel essentially tells them to piss off and figure it out on their own, he has more pressing matters to attend to. Dean's speechless and Sam bangs his head against the wall.

"What the fuck is his problem lately?" Dean snaps, throwing his phone on his bed before pacing up and down the room. "Ever since Famine he's been such a little bitch."

"Maybe he's got a lot on his mind," Sam says, tentatively while he watches his brother.

"What the hell can possibly be more important than helping us stop the Apocalypse?" Dean scoffs.

Sam wants to point out they just ganked four witches, not demons or a horseman, so it wasn't really an Apocalypse related case. He doesn't though, because Dean's got that look in his eye, the one that tells Sam he should get the hell out of dodge while he's ahead.

Instead, Sam says, "Maybe he's focused on the search for God, Dean."

"Fuck God," Dean says, just like that.

Sam sighs heavily but doesn't otherwise respond.

Dean keeps wearing a path into the cheap hotel room carpet. "And what's Cas' problem with _you_ all of a sudden?" Dean asks, rounding on Sam. "I thought he was going to attack you."

Sam opens his mouth to reply, though whether to tell Dean the truth or tell him to piss off he doesn't know, but it doesn't matter because apparently it was a rhetorical question.

"Let's go get lots of booze," Dean suggests, shaking his head to clear his mind. "Tonight is a good night to drink."

"For you," Sam says slowly, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice, "It's always a good night to drink."

Dean just glares at him before grabbing his phone back up off the bed and storming out of the hotel room.

Sam stares after him in silence for a moment before shaking his head and following. Dean was so damn high maintenance sometimes.

* * *

It's cold in Omaha at night. It could have been worse, apparently Nebraska suffered through one of the worst winter's it's had in a real long time, but Sam's still shivering and he wishes he'd thought to grab his jacket.

He'd stormed out of the room when Dean decided he was going to spend the night drinking and complaining about how much he hated Castiel and he hadn't thought to grab a coat when he'd done so.

He's tempted to tell Dean that he should just hurry up and confess he wants to bone the angel but Sam doesn't like to share - it's never been one of his strong points. That, and Dean would probably ream him.

It's late, well after two in the morning, but that doesn't stop Sam from climbing a chain link fence and making his way over to a swing set and collapsing upon it. Sam's a rebel like that. He's still cold and his legs are too long for him to swing but he's got a great view of the starry sky, and that's kind of nice.

He doesn't say anything when Castiel arrives with a soft flutter of wings and he can feel the angel boring a hole into the back of his head. Sam's content to sit in silence but Castiel's just as stubborn as he is and they'll never get anything sorted if Sam continues to ignore him.

"Pull up a swing," Sam says after a while without bothering to look at the angel.

There's a shuffling to his left, and he's a little surprised when Castiel really does sit tentatively on the hard plastic seat, the chains groaning in protest but holding his weight. They stare at each other in silence for Sam doesn't know how long, before Sam turns away to look at the sky again.

"I'm sorry," He says, and the words sound lame, even to his own ears. "I shouldn't have – the first time it was Famine, and I didn't even think about it, but two weeks ago-"

"You haven't done anything I have not permitted you to," Castiel says.

When Sam looks over at him, Castiel's staring up at the stars, his face expressionless. Sam doesn't feel very reassured. "All the same," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Castiel says.

They don't say anything for a long while after that. It's a quiet night, even for Omaha, and every sound seems to carry for miles and miles. The dead, bare branches of trees creak all around them, cars thrum by on the motorway, and a drunk guy kicking a trashcan echoes like a bullet in the sleeping city.

Sam can't help but feel like there's an elephant in the living room, even with Castiel's gentle assurances that they were cool. Well, that Sam shouldn't be upset about all of this, anyways. There was still something that was bothering him, but he wasn't sure what it was, let alone how to ask it.

"It is late," Castiel mentions eventually. Sam glances down at his watch, and yeah, it's almost four in the morning, how long have they just been sitting there? "Should you not head back to your room?"

"Dean would've called if he was worried about me,"Sam says, but he gets the distinct impression that's not what Castiel is talking about.

Castiel's standing then, the chains of the swing clattering loudly in the night, and moving towards Sam. He touches the taller male then and in a blink of an eye Sam's sitting on his motel room bed with Castiel standing, towering above him.

"Thanks," Sam says, more out of a need to say _something_.

Dean's passed out drunk on the next bed, still dressed, and Castiel is staring at him with intense focus. "Why does he do it?" Castiel asks, eyes trailing along the rows of empty beer cans and he looks so genuinely confused that Sam pities him.

"It makes the pain go away, Cas," Sam says softly. He doesn't need to whisper, Dean could sleep through, well, the Apocalypse when he was in a funk like this, but it's a force of habit.

Castiel looks at him again, his expression unreadable in the near-dark of the room, and Sam smiles at him. Gently, Sam places his hands on Castiel's hips, tugging lightly until the angel is tumbling backwards onto the bed with him. They inch back until their heads hit the pillows, rolling onto their sides to face each other.

Sam places a chaste kiss against Castiel's lips, cupping the angel's face in one hand before asking softly, "What are we doing, Cas?"

"I don't know," Castiel replies, his voice soft. There's a look in his eyes that Sam doesn't know how to describe and he swallows nervously. Castiel brings his own hand up to touch Sam's face gingerly, his fingers trailing over Sam's cheek, tracing across his eye brow and down his nose before settling on Sam's lips.

Sam smiles as he kisses them, stroking Castiel's cheek lazily with his own thumb, before parting his lips and rubbing his tongue gently across the angel's fingers.

Castiel inhales sharply, his eyes half lidded and focused intently on Sam's mouth.

Tentatively, Sam nibbled at the tips of Castiel's fingers before washing his tongue over them. When Castiel's breath hitches again, Sam drops his hand from the angel's face and moves it to his wrist, squeezing gently before he sucks the Castiel's index and middle finger into his mouth.

Castiel's panting as Sam teases the fingers, twirling his tongue over and around them, spreading them between his tongue to lick the webbing before sucking at them. Castiel tastes _clean_ and if Sam wasn't already hard from the keening cries and moans, he's sure the pure taste against his tongue would have done it.

Sam knows he really shouldn't, Dean's sleeping _maybe_ five feet away, but he can't help himself and he lets go of Castiel's wrist to undo the angel's belt and slacks, worming his hand down to wrap around Castiel's cock. He tries to stop sucking on Castiel's fingers to kiss him, but the angel won't let him and shoves them rather forcefully back into Sam's mouth and Sam would roll his eyes and scoff if he wasn't so busy.

It's getting easier and easier to do this, Sam thinks as he works Castiel's cock. It's starting to get _familiar_, and that sends a warm tingly feeling down Sam's spine, even as he tries to palm himself through his jeans. If Castiel insists on moaning like a wanton whore while Sam strokes him, than Sam's pretty sure he's going to come before he can even wiggle out of them.

Castiel's fingers are slipping in and out of Sam's mouth in sync with Sam's hand on his cock, the digits gliding over his slick tongue easily. It's not really doing anything for Sam except making him wonder what it would feel like to wrap his lips around the angel's cock, but that really isn't an option anymore because the next moment Castiel's coming all over Sam's hand with a choked cry that sounds an awful lot like _Sam_.

The bed on the other side of the room groans as Dean rolls over. "Sammy?" He slurs, and Sam looks over his shoulder at his older brother, eyes wide. Dean's staring at him blankly and Sam's not even sure he's all there.

"Dean?" Sam asks nervously. _Fuck my life_, Sam thinks, because this is more awkward then the time Dean walked in on him trying to feel up Lisa Talbot back in the eleventh grade.

Dean doesn't respond and it takes Sam a long time to realized that he's fallen back asleep. He lets out a shaky laugh as he rolls back over to face Castiel. Who is gone. Again. Sam stares at the spot the angel had been dejectedly before pushing off the bed to go to the bathroom. Dean had almost caught him jerking off Castiel, he wasn't going to risk his brother catching him getting off himself.

Sam and Castiel really had to talk about the angel's constant fleeing.


	4. Lie back and suffer now

Title: Lie back and suffer now, part four in the 'Bad Things' 'verse  
Author: sephirothflame  
Fandom: _Supernatural_  
Rating: R  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sam/Cas, mentions of past Sam/Ruby and Sam/Jess  
Warning(s): PWP, Oral  
Spoiler(s): 5.17, "_99 Problems_"  
Prompt(s): N/A  
Word Count: 1,997  
Beta Reader: **Waveringphoenix**, whom this would be impossible without. Best. Beta. Ever.  
Rants: My OpenOffice kept insisting 'Sam' should be 'Samantha' and 'cock' should be 'coke'. Needless to say, I _died_ laughing when I was rereading this.  
Summary: They're supposed to be researching who Lean Gideon really is but but they have a tendency to get distracted.  
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN, as much as I wish I did.

* * *

"Here," Sam says, startling Castiel. The angel looks up from the book he's skimming and accepts the bottle of water Sam hands him. "Trust me."

Castiel places the bottle on the coffee table without opening it and Sam sighs heavily. He plops down onto the couch next to Castiel, grabbing the water bottle, and opening it. Sam holds it out for Castiel to accept again, and the angel just stares at him.

"Drink it," Sam has a thin smile on his face. "You're going to have a killer headache later if you don't. Well, you probably still will, but this will help."

"Fine," Castiel huffs, taking the bottle again, and guzzling half of it down in one go.

Sam watches Castiel's Adam's Apple bob as he swallows and he licks his lips without even thinking about it. When he looks up to meet the angel's gaze, embarrassed that he has been caught staring, Castiel is staring intently at his lips.

"Cas?" Sam asks, hesitant.

The angel glances up to meet Sam's gaze, startled, but his gaze drops back when Sam licks his lips again. "I'm sorry-"

"Stop talking," Castiel says, pushing the book from his lap to the floor and setting the bottle of water on the coffee table. Sam would be amazed it didn't spill if Castiel hadn't practically crawled into his lap and start to kiss him sloppily.

Castiel bites too roughly at Sam's bottom lip and Sam quells the urge to whimper – he isn't sure Castiel could tell the difference between pleasure and pain in his inebriated state. Which Sam knows should be reason enough for them not to be doing this, but he puts his hand on Castiel's hips and tugs him closer anyways.

Castiel's tongue plunges into Sam's mouth, quick and probing, his hands clenched tightly in Sam's shirt. It's messy and desperate and Sam can taste the alcohol on the angel's tongue. Still, Sam's loathe to break the kiss, but he needs to breathe. Castiel immediately tries to continue the kiss, but Sam puts his hands on the angel's chest and holds him back.

"Cas, we need to talk about this," Sam says, his breath heavy, lips barely an inch from Castiel's. He presses a quick kiss to the angel's lips and pulls back before Castiel can deepen it.

"No talking," Castiel replies, hands fumbling with the buttons on Sam's shirt, "I don't like to repeat myself." His cheeks are flushed, though whether because of the alcohol or his determination, Sam's unsure, but it doesn't help his resolve.

"Cas," Sam tries again but the angel silences him with a glare.

"I told you to shut up," Cas practically snarls, shoving Sam's shirt from his shoulders as he leans forward to kiss him again.

Sam shrugs his shirt off and tossing it aside. The kiss is just as sloppy and desperate but this time Sam doesn't even care. His hands move to tug Castiel's trench coat and suit jacket off and the angel removes his hands from Sam's shoulders just long enough to let him. The tie is easy to remove, half undone already, and Sam has to fight the urge to just rip Castiel's shirt off. He isn't sure how the angel would reply.

They break the kiss then, for Sam to breathe, and Sam takes the moment to admire Castiel's body. He's too thin and too pale, but his skin is hot and smooth under Sam's hands. _It's strange_, Sam thinks. Castiel is all hard lines and sharp angles where Ruby and Jess had been all soft lines and gentle curves. It's not bad though. It's definitely not bad.

Sam leans forward to kiss Castiel's jaw, ignoring the burn of the angel's stubble, sighing against his skin. Sam leaves a trail of trail of open mouthed kisses down Castiel's jaw and neck, nipping and licking, thrumming with pleasure when Castiel moans and clutches his shoulders, tightly, grinding down into Sam's lap. It's downright erotic and the hunter regrets not getting Castiel drunk sooner.

"Lay back," Sam orders, kissing Castiel's neck.

He pushes the angel back onto the couch, and Castiel struggles up onto his elbows to watch Sam lean over him. They kiss again and Sam tugs at Castiel's lower lip gently before he pulls back and leaves another trail of kisses downward. Sam teases Castiel's nipples with his fingers before nipping and sucking at one gently, grinning as the angel writhed and moaned beneath him.

Sam's hands travel lower still, deft fingers undoing his belt buckle and the button on Castiel's slacks. Hooking his fingers in the fabric, Sam tugs and Castiel arches his hips to let Sam tug his slacks and briefs down his legs. He's kissing Castiel again then, plundering the angel's mouth. He starts stroking Castiel's cock, grinning against Castiel's soft moans.

Castiel's hips are rocking forward in time with the lazy motions of Sam's hands and he pants into the kiss. For someone who doesn't need to breathe he's having a hard time catching his breath, and Sam nips at Castiel's earlobe to give him the chance to. Castiel's hands fumble with Sam's own belt buckle and jeans, and Sam groans into Castiel's ear when the angel finally manages to shove them down and wrap a hand around Sam's cock.

Castiel's strokes are just as sloppy as they were the last time – or the first time, really, in the shower – but he isn't as nervous this time. He's still moaning in Sam's ear as he kisses and licks every inch of Sam's skin he can get near his mouth and Sam laughs breathlessly in Castiel's ear, because yeah, it tickles, and he's pretty sure the angel is going to leave a mark. Again.

"Wait," Sam whispers in Castiel's ear, nipping the lobe between his teeth gently before pushing himself back to look at the angel spread beneath him. Fuck. Castiel looks downright debauched and he's kind of surprised the sight alone doesn't make him come right then.

"Sam," Castiel says. He's too breathless for the warning to sound intimidating at all, but Sam shakes his head. He has no intentions of talking at this point.

Gently, Sam tugs Castiel's hands away from him and lets them fall at the angel's side. He inches back on the couch and leans forward to leave a warm trail of kisses down Castiel's chest and stomach, smiling faintly at the feel of fluttering muscles beneath his lips. He nips gently at Castiel's bellybutton, lolling his tongue around the outside before pressing inside of it. The sound Castiel makes is downright dirty.

Sam continues kissing his way down Castiel's body, pausing to nip and suck at a few spots along the angel's hips, his fingers trailing softly down the inside of Castiel's thighs. He's taking his time, still trying to convince himself he can do this. He knows he wants to, has thought about it more than once since the last time they were together, but Sam's nervous.

Sam's never blown a guy before, but he's been on the receiving end plenty of times. Well, sort of. Never from another guy. So, Sam knows what he's doing, in theory, but if he goes through with this, he's pretty sure that makes him gay, at least a little bit. Not to say the previous escapades with Castiel didn't, but, well, Sam's a little freaked. He looks up to see Castiel's eyes, the dark blue of his irises barely visible behind blown pupils, and Sam smiles. Castiel's never done this before, either. He won't care how bad Sam is.

With that thought in mind, Sam takes a minute to catch his breath before he plants one hand firmly on Castiel's stomach to stop him from moving too much and hesitantly traces his tongue against the head of the angel's cock. Castiel makes a keening cry at the sensation and tries to buck up against Sam, but Sam pushes down with his hand.

"We can't do this if you're going to do that," Sam says, surprising himself with how serious he sounds. He glances up at Castiel in time to see the angel nod his head.

Lightening the restraint against the angel's stomach, Sam brings his free hand to stroke down Castiel's cock, teasingly, before he licks the tip again. It's strange. Different. Sam isn't sure whether he likes it or not, but it's so _Castiel_ he isn't sure he couldn't. The smell of the aroused angel is intoxicating and Sam's surprisingly okay with this.

Sam licks a trail along the underside of Castiel's cock from the base to the tip, ignoring the heady burn of precum against his tongue as he takes the head in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it. True to his word, Castiel hasn't tried to buck again, but Sam can feel his muscles clench and unclench as he tries to control himself, and his nails are digging into Sam's shoulders painfully.

He hallows his cheeks, and the slide further down Castiel's cock is easier than he's expected, even if it does strain his jaw a pinch. He wraps his hand around the base of the angel's cock and Sam jacks him off slowly as he continues to suck. It's too wet and beyond sloppy, but it's not long before Castiel comes with a strangled cry anyways, surprising and almost choking Sam.

Sputtering, Sam swallows and forces himself up on his elbows to glare at Castiel. He means to yell at him but the angel is tugging him up to press sated, open mouthed kisses against Sam's cheek, licking his own come off the other man's skin as he wraps his hand around Sam's cock and jerks him off roughly. It's only a moment before Sam's coming on his and Castiel's stomachs, and he groans into Castiel's cheek when he does.

His limbs feel like lead, but Sam forces himself to sit back so as to not crush Castiel. Not that he thinks he could crush the angel, but he figures it's a common courtesy.

Castiel's watching him through half-lidded eyes, and they sit in silence, just watching each other as they try to catch their breaths.

"Are you going to run away this time?" Sam asks, once he thinks his heart has stopped trying to pound it's way through his chest.

"We have work to do," Castiel replies, pulling away from Sam as he struggles to sit up and fix his pants. He touches Sam's come on his chest experimentally before looking at Sam.

"One sec, I'll get a washcloth," Sam says.

He fixes his jeans as he stands before he goes to wet a washcloth down. When he returns he wipes Castiel's stomach gently before washing his own and he tosses the cloth on the bathroom floor. He'll take care of it later, honest. Sam grabs his shirt from the back of the couch and he pulls it on, watching as Castiel gets dressed.

"So," Sam says slowly. He's not sure how to breach the subject, how to ask what this is between them. Once was a fluke, twice a gambit, but four times? Four times was definitely a thing.

"Not now, Sam," Castiel says, his tone it's usual gravely air. He doesn't sound like a guy who just got off. When Sam opens his mouth to complain, bitchface already setting in, Castiel raises a hand to silence him. "_Later_. We have work to do."

Sam is tempted to make Castiel promise but _one_, he isn't that much of a girl and _two_, he trusts the angel to keep his word. Even if said angel is wobbling on his feet and is still clearly drunk. Sighing heavily, Sam grabs the book Castiel had been reading off of the floor and hands it over.

"How can I help?" He asks.


	5. How fragile are the very strong

Title: _How fragile are the very strong_, part five in the Bad Things 'verse  
Author: **sephirothflame**  
Rating: R  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester  
Warning(s): language, blatant use of God's name in vain, adult situations (specifically, oral)  
Spoiler(s): 5.18, "_Point of No Return_"  
Prompt(s): N/A  
Word Count: Approx. 2,721  
Beta Reader: **waveringphoenix** as per usual, whom this would be impossible without  
Rants: _**This won't make any sense at all if you haven't seen 5.18**_. I mean, like, literally. Your mind will be blown. But other than that, I'm kind of happy how it turned out. Also, my lj friends and people on will get to read this since I'm not crossposting it until I finish part six. Here that ? I'm posting here before LJ. This doesn't happen. Ever.  
Summary: Sam and Castiel finally get the chance to talk about what's going on between them.  
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN – there would be more shirt ripping open Cas if I did.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?" Dean asks after Castiel shoves him none-to-gently into the safe room at Bobby's place.

"Yes," Castiel replies simply and with finality.

Dean glares at Castiel, but the angel just stares back at him in that unnerving way he does and Dean breaks first.

Sam feels kind of bad, but he does agree with Castiel on this. It'll be hard enough keeping an eye on Adam upstairs, they don't need to worry about Dean slipping out at the first opportune moment that presents itself. Sam knows that's what Dean would do, because that's exactly the kind of thing Sam would do.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean says, turning his attention to his brother. "Can't I at least get something to _do_?"

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam says as nonchalantly as he can manage. "It's for the best, man. You know that." If Dean doesn't, he will one day; Sam's sure of that.

Castiel flicks his fingers and the door closes before anyone else can speak and they can hear Dean cursing at them through the door. Sam flashes Castiel a pathetic look, but the angel is seemingly unfazed by everything. Sam kind of hates him for that.

"Follow me," Castiel says, before he turns on his heels and walks upstairs. Sam watches him go before he sighs and obeys, not really seeing any other option.

"Where are we going, Cas?" Sam asks, trailing after the angel as they move through Bobby's house and out the backdoor. Bobby gives them a curious look and Sam just shrugs, but Bobby doesn't question them.

Castiel doesn't answer him, but Sam's not really surprised. Castiel has a habit of ignoring him when he asks questions – it was kind of aggravating, if Sam is honest. The look the angel gives him when they stop in the middle of the salvage yard, Bobby's house barely visible, is ineffable.

"What's up?" Sam asks and he's startled when the angel pushes him back against a rusting Nova and kisses him fiercely, fingers curled tightly in Sam's shirt. _Oh_, Sam thinks. Dean might accuse Sam of being dense on occasion, but Sam isn't pathetic enough to miss the desperation in Castiel's kiss. _He's scared_, Sam thinks, but that doesn't stop him from kissing the angel back for all he's worth, gripping his hips tight in his hands and dragging him forward until they're pressed flush together.

Castiel's tongue laves against Sam's bottom lip before he bites at it and a sharp pain jolts through Sam. Fuck, he isn't used to Castiel being the dominant one, but he parts his lips and lets the angel's tongue ravage his mouth all the same. Castiel pauses, granting them both a sharp inhalation for air before he continues, tracing his tongue across Sam's own, mapping his teeth and gums desperately.

Castiel stops clutching at Sam's shirt in favor of tearing at the buttons in desperation. Growling in frustration, Castiel breaks the kiss to glare at the offending article of clothing and Sam moves his hands from Castiel's hips to help him unbutton his shirt. The look Castiel flashes him is grateful but Sam barely has time to register it before Castiel is kissing him again, once, briefly on the lips, before he trails kisses across Sam's jaw and throat.

Sam groans at the sensation and brings one hand up to tangle his fingers in Castiel's messy hair. The other one Sam uses to tug Castiel closer, spreading his legs to even their heights and allow their groins to press flush together. They both groan this time, and Sam can feel Castiel's shaky breath against his throat.

"Cas," Sam moans. The angel looks up at him, pupils blown, cheeks flushed and Sam tugs his hair to get a better angle to kiss the angel with.

Castiel makes an impatient sound into Sam's mouth but he doesn't pull away. His hands stroke across Sam's chest, over taut muscles and scarred skin, mapping every inch with his finger tips. Sam isn't surprised when the hands slip over his belly, unbuckling his belt without a moment's hesitation, before moving onto undo Sam's jeans.

He wants to ask if Castiel knows what he's doing, but the angel bites Sam's clavicle at the same time as he wraps a hand around Sam's cock and fuck if Sam can make any sort of cognitive sound. Castiel kisses the bite mark gently, while he jerks Sam off, and all he can do is grunt vague encouragement and appreciation.

Sam almost cries out when Castiel stops stroking him, but the angel has a contemplative look on his face and he slips to his knees between Sam's legs before Sam can stop him – not that Sam would. Not if Castiel is going to tug his jeans and boxers down to make room before hesitantly pressing his tongue against the head of Sam's cock.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam groans as Castiel's tongue laps gently, teasingly. Castiel looks up at him, blue eyes dark – and wow, Castiel looks _great_ from this angle- and gives him a look that clearly says _what the hell does it look like I'm doing?_ "Fuck," Sam says, and he tightens his grip in Castiel's hair. If the angel minds, he doesn't comment – Sam is sure Castiel would let him know if he did.

Fingers gripped tightly into Sam's hips to hold him still, Castiel presses a soft kiss to the head of Sam's cock before he washes his tongue from the base to the tip in a tantalizingly slow movement.

Castiel repeats the gesture and Sam groans, tugging Castiel's hair roughly. _Jesus Fucking Christ_, Sam thinks, could the guy be any more of a tease? Castiel glares up at him and lets go of Sam's hips with one hand to disentangle Sam's fingers from his hair.

Huffing, Sam grips Castiel's shoulders tightly instead, but Castiel seems to have gotten the message. Pressing another kiss to the underside of Sam's cock, Castiel licks a trail back up to the tip before swirling his tongue around the head. He hesitantly takes the tip into his mouth and wraps his free hand around the base. Castiel's grip on his hip is too strong for Sam to jerk forward and Sam was almost positive he can see the angel smirk around his cock.

Castiel's tongue is splayed over the head of Sam's cock and he sucks gently at first, experimentally, before increasing the effort as Sam groans appreciatively above him. His lips inch slowly down Sam's cock as he starts to stroke it quickly, saliva and precum slipping past his lips and easing the movements of his hand.

Sam forces himself to let go of one of Castiel's shoulders to cradle the angel's head in his hand gently, stroking his thumb over Castiel's cheek gently before tracing a finger across his lips. They twitch under Sam's gentle touch and he's fascinated with how they look stretched around his cock.

"Cas," Sam gasps, stroking the angel's cheek again. "_Look at me_." Castiel obeys almost immediately and the look in his eyes is so intense that Sam barely has time to gasp out "_Cas_" again before he's coming down the angel's throat.

Castiel sputters and chokes, pulling away from Sam's cock with an audible _pop_. He doesn't look surprised or angry, which kind of surprises Sam, and he wipes the back of his hand across his face before licking it clean. Sam laughs breathlessly at Castiel's contemplative face before he fixes his jeans back up and buttons his shirt.

"Jesus Christ, Cas," Sam says when he manages to catch his breath, "What was that all about?" He grips Castiel's arms and helps the angel to his feet before pressing a chaste kiss against his lips and slip his hand down the front of Castiel's pants.

"I wanted to," Castiel says between kisses and bats Sam's hand away. "Don't," he continues, before resting his forehead against Sam's shoulder and breathing sharply.

"You okay?" Sam asks, wrapping his arms around Castiel's waist in a loose hug and the angel looks up at him and nods his head. "You said we were going to talk about this," Sam reminds him quietly and Castiel lets out a long-suffering sigh before he moves back enough to look up at Sam.

"What is with your incessant need to talk about everything?" He asks, resting his hands on Sam's chest before splaying his fingers. When Sam doesn't answer, Castiel sighs heavily again before clutching the shirt tightly and meeting Sam's gaze again. "What do you wish to talk about?"

"This," Sam says. He removes one hand from Castiel's back to gesture between the two of them in a vaguely all encompassing gesture. Castiel tilts his head to the side in a familiar gesture and Sam sighs heavily. "I mean us, Cas. What are we? What are we doing?" When Castiel continues to stare at him Sam has to bite back his annoyance. "I can't do this–not if it doesn't mean anything."

Castiel is silent for a long while, simply staring at Sam as if he's trying to figure him out – which, Sam guesses, he probably is. "What is it that you want it to mean?" Castiel asks finally, his head still cocked to the side and eyes still blazing.

"I love you," Sam says, swallowing the lump in his throat. It's not some sort of big revelation, not like he thought it would be. It's the truth though, even if he isn't sure when he realized it. He brings his hand up to stroke Castiel's cheek and the angel's eyes flutter closed at the contact. Sam kisses Castiel again, gently. Castiel pulls back before pressing his lips to Sam's once more, sighing.

"I have no intention of ever harming you, Sam," Castiel says softly when they part. It's not an _I love you, too_ but Sam figures it's the closest he's going to get, and he's surprisingly okay with that. "We should return. Bobby will wonder where we have gone off to."

"Right," Sam replies, nodding. He kisses Castiel once more before letting go of the angel and nudging his back gently. The corner of Castiel's lips twitch up into a confused smile when Sam threads their fingers together and tugs them towards the house.

_This is good_, Sam thinks. Sam can work with this.

* * *

Sam regrets asking "What are you going to do with that?" the moment the words are out of his mouth. Sam already thinks their plan is flimsy and bullshit, even if it is the only one they have and he's tempted to call it quits and go back to Bobby's to think of something else when the angel offers him the box cutter.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Sam asks, confused. Castiel is still holding the box cutter, waiting for Sam to take it and Sam isn't sure he likes the look in the angel's eyes. "Cas," He warns quietly before he takes the sharp blade.

"This will only work if you do exactly as I say," Castiel replies, his tone flat and too calm for Sam's liking. His hands move to untuck and unbutton his shirt with clinical precision and Sam looks over towards Dean, helpless confusion written on his face.

"What the hell are you talking about, Cas?" Dean asks and he's just as confused and nervous as Sam is.

"I need you to carve the banishing sigil into my chest," Castiel says simply, hands falling to his sides after his shirt is undone. He meets Sam's gaze, his eyes dark and unreadable. "It is the only way for me to clear the room of my brothers."

"No way, Cas," Sam replies, letting the box cutter slip from his fingers and into the dirt. "Jesus Christ - _no_. I'm not going to carve anything into your skin." He pleads silently with the angel, the _you know why I can't do this_ hangs between them.

"I'm with Sam on this one," Dean says and Sam looks away from Castiel to Dean to nod his head in agreement.

Castiel's face goes from impassive to annoyed.

"This is a ridiculously bad idea," Dean continues.

"I do believe there is a relevant phrase about a pot and a kettle," Castiel says coldly, glaring at Dean. "And I do not remember asking for your opinion on the matter."

"Cas, _please_," Sam says, silencing Dean with a glare before his brother can snap back angrily and make the situation worse. "Think about this – there has to be another way."

"We don't have _time_, Sam," Castiel practically growls at him. He moves forward to kneel at Sam's feet and pick the box cutter up. "I trust you," He says softly, looking up at Sam, still on his knees. He offers the blade to Sam once more, and Sam bites back a wave of nausea.

"I don't want to do this," Sam says, his fingers covering Castiel's own and the box cutter. He doesn't care that Dean's there, that he's watching, because this isn't fair. Castiel can't ask Sam to carve a banishing sigil into his chest within twenty-four hours of Sam confessing his love. It isn't _fair_.

"You have to," Castiel replies, standing up and slipping his fingers out of Sam's, the blade tucked in the taller male's hand. The angel's eyes are a wash of emotions, expressionless to anyone who doesn't know him but Sam recognizes the emotional turmoil for what it is.

"Will it hurt you?" Sam asks. Castiel smiles faintly, his head cocked to the side and Sam fights the urge to reach for him. _This isn't the time or place_, he tells himself. They don't have time for it.

"I don't know," Castiel responds easily. "It – It will most likely banish me as well. Beyond that, I cannot say what will happen."

"I don't like this," Sam says, gripping the blade tightly in his hand. Castiel smiles at him softly and he's standing in front of Sam expectantly, waiting for him to move. "This - " Sam hesitates, swallowing, " - this will be easier to do if you lie down."

"What? Sam, no!" Dean snaps, moving to grab Castiel's arm before the angel can lie in the dirt, but the angel tugs himself free of Dean's grip easily. "You heard Cas. He has no idea what this will even do."

"Cas is right, Dean," Sam says through gritted teeth. "We don't have any other choice."

"I can't let you do this," Dean says, fists clenched at his sides. "What the hell has gotten into you, Sammy? We can't just go around carving people up liked pumpkins because we don't have any better options!"

"_Dean_," Sam replies, but is cut off by Castiel.

"If you do not want to watch than I suggest you stand guard," Castiel says coolly.

Dean looks like he wants to say something but just makes a frustrated sound instead before storming off on his heels.

Castiel turns his attention back to Sam. "Sam," He says softly.

"I know," Sam says softly, holding the box cutter up for them both to see. "I'm going to do it. I don't like this, Cas, I think it's a very bad idea."

"I know," Castiel replies. He lets his eyes flutter shut and he leans into Sam's touch when the hunter strokes his cheek gently, a happy sigh escaping his lips. "We don't have time for this, Sam." Castiel makes no move to stop Sam from kissing him though, and for that Sam is grateful.

Castiel's lips are soft and warm against Sam's own, and he sighs heavily before moving away from the angel. "Right," He says, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Let's get this over with." Castiel simply nods his agreement before laying back on the hard ground.

God, Sam hates his life.


	6. Your life is here

Title: No eleventh hour reprieve, part six b of six  
Author: **sephirothflame**  
Rating: Hard R  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester  
Warning(s): Language, Angst, AU, Sam's a whiny bitch who texts too much, Adult Situations  
Spoiler(s): Through 5.22, "_Swan Song_" just to be safe  
Prompt(s): N/A  
Word Count: Approx. 3,336  
Beta Reader: **waveringphoenix**  
Rants: This has got to be the longest, porniest thing I've ever written. The full chapter is just shy of 9K, but since that's as long as the first five parts this is split into part six a and part six b.  
Summary: Sam hasn't heard from Castiel since he vanished from the warehouse. When he shows back up, Sam's determined to make every moment count, even if the end is extremely freaking nigh.  
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.

* * *

Sam's scared. Terrified, really, or petrified or panicked or a half dozen other synonyms, he doesn't care. That twisty feeling in his gut that makes him want to cry and scream and puke and punch something at the same time, whatever it's called, he's got that feeling. He's called Castiel three times since they left the warehouse like a bat out of Hell an hour ago and sent him a half million text messages – all of it a variation of; _I'm freaked the fuck out, call me already_.

The entire car ride back to Bobby's place thus far has been spent in tense silence between Sam and Dean. Sam knows Dean knows _something_ is going on between him and Castiel, can see it in the guarded way his brother is looking at him and the way they're pointedly _not_ talking about it. Dean's knuckles are white as they clench the steering wheel of a '98 Jeep Grand Cherokee he'd hot wired. It was the only thing they could find.

Sam keeps checking his phone every few minutes. He can't help it. He needs to know Castiel is going to be okay. He isn't sure if he can live with himself if the angel isn't. This is all Sam's fault, after all. He shouldn't have carved the sigil into Castiel's chest, he should have convinced him to find another way. There had to have been another way. There's always another way.

"If he didn't reply to the first text, what makes you think he's going to reply to the thousandth?" Dean asks. He sounds exhausted and he watches Sam warily out of the corner of his eyes, and even though Sam knows he means no harm he can't help but bristle up in anger and annoyance.

"Just shut up and drive," Sam snaps, glaring at his phone as his fingers flitter across the keypad as he typed; _Cas, please please please reply. Freaking out here._ Sam doesn't hesitate before hitting 'Send' and he can see Dean clench the steering wheel impossibly tighter.

"You're not the only one worried about him," Dean responds and Sam huffs at him angrily. "He's my friend, too, Sam and this is as much my fault as it is yours so just - "

"You're not the one who carved a _banishing sigil_ into his chest," Sam says through clenched teeth and Dean doesn't seem to know what to say in response to that. "Listen – can we just not talk about this?"

"Not talking about things is kind of my specialty," Dean replies.

Sam isn't sure if he wants to laugh at his brother, or punch him.

* * *

They make it back to Bobby's with the sun shining in their faces over a day later. They haven't stopped for anything besides food and to switch drivers when Dean was ready to fall asleep at the wheel. Dean manages to tell Bobby to get rid of the Jeep, just in case, before the old hunter banishes them upstairs to the guest room. Dean calls dibs on the bed and passes out the minute he lays down on it. Sam sits with his back against the wall on the cot, cross legged with his phone balanced on one knee. He doesn't sleep.

_At Bobby's now. We're okay._ Sam texts, laying the phone back down. He stares at it for a moment before he picks it up and starts typing again. _I need to know you're okay. Please say something._ He continues, fingers jittery as they type, like maybe if Sam sends Castiel enough messages the angel will be okay.

God, Sam hopes Castiel is okay. He'd much rather learn that Castiel's just so pissed off at him that he doesn't want to come back, or that Sam's confession freaked him out enough to make him stay away. Castiel's avoided them before, but he usually at least messages one of them back to let them know he's still alive or searching for God or whatever. Sam doesn't want to think about the alternative.

Which prompts Sam to send another text, a lump forming in the back of his throat and his vision is blurry. It's because he's tired, he tells himself. _I understand if you hate me. Please just let me know that you're okay._

His phone beeps at him five minutes after he sends the last message and Sam nearly screams in frustration when it's just a low battery warning and not a reply. Ruffling through his duffel, Sam finds the charger and plugs it in before settling back to stare at the phone for the rest of the morning.

* * *

Three days have gone by and they still haven't heard from Castiel. Sam hasn't slept for more than an hour stretch at a time, fingers curled painfully tight around the plastic of his cellphone. He probably wouldn't have bothered to shower, and shave, and eat if Dean and Bobby hadn't threatened his life.

He keeps his phone within arms reach at all times, in case Castiel finally decides to call or text him.

* * *

_Dean made burgers._ Sam types before his finger hovers over the 'Send' button. He isn't sure why he feels like he needs to bribe Castiel back into his life, but he's willing to try anything at this point. He absolutely refuses to believe Castiel is simply gone.

Sam isn't sure what he'd do if he lost Castiel. He remembers what it felt like to lose Jess and Dean; both to hell and over and over again to Gabriel at the Mystery Spot. It still hurts, all of it – especially since a lot of it is probably his fault, if not all of It.

Sam stops eating his burger long enough to pick up his phone and send another text to Castiel. _It's raining and I just realized my hoodie is outside._ He doesn't have to look up to know Bobby and Dean are sharing A Look, one that says _Sammy's crazy, you should talk to him_ but neither seems to want to be the one to do it.

Sam manages to finish his food and slink off upstairs back to the guest bedroom, before either of them works up enough guts or drinks enough booze to confront him. Not that Sam would ever admit to slinking. He's not five, after all.

He curls up on the bed, the cellphone on his pillow next to his head and somehow he manages to drift off for an hour or two. He wakes when it beeps at him to tell him it's dying and he rolls out of bed to plug it in to charge. It's dark out and he intends to go back to bed, but he can hear loud, muffled voices from downstairs so he pushes open the door to listen in.

He can't hear what they're saying word for word, but they keep saying "Sam" and "Castiel" and Bobby says something about how "Sam's killing himself and Dean ain't doing anything about it." Sam isn't sure what's said back, but he's sure Dean's pissed. He kind of wants to go downstairs but he can't bring himself to leave his phone.

Sam closes the door as quietly as he can before climbing back into the bed, fingers curled around his phone. He pretends to be asleep an hour later when Dean comes up and falls asleep on the cot on the other side of the room. He doesn't need to. Dean knows he's awake, he always does.

They lay in silence for a long time before Dean's breath evens out and he finally falls asleep. Sam lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding and turned his cellphone over in his hand and sends another text message. _Cas, please._

* * *

Bobby kicks them out five days after they showed up in the Jeep. Dean's glad to be in the Impala again and Sam's too tired to make fun of him for cooing at her, promising she will always be his one true love. They drive in silence for the first few hours, no idea where they're going, just that they're not welcomed at Bobby's right now unless one of them is dying. Sam feels like he's dying, but that probably doesn't count.

His finger's itch to text Castiel again, but Sam thinks he's starting to control the urge. That doesn't stop him from staring at his phone with intense preoccupation from it's spot on the dashboard though. He thinks Dean may have tried to talk to him but he's too focused to even remember about what.

They're still not talking about the thing between Sam and Castiel. As much as Dean hates talking about feelings he's dying to know if Sam's okay. The looks he keeps giving Sam are proof enough for that. Sam kind of wonders if Dean will punch Castiel for hurting Sam like he did to Jeffrey Something-Or-Other when Sam was in the eleventh grade and he called Sam a faggot and broke two of Sam's fingers. Sam thinks he might just let him.

* * *

"We need to find someplace to stop," Dean says, barely audible over the familiar cacophony of Led Zepplin, torrential rain and the Impala's windshield wipers. When Sam gives him a bitchface, Dean glowers. "At least until this storm is over. I'm not wrecking my baby."

"We should just keep going, Dean," Sam huffs but Dean's ignoring him in favor for searching for someplace to pull over. If worse comes to worst Sam knows Dean will just pull over on the side of the road and they'll wait the storm out that way, but only as a final option. "Seriously, it's not like we're even going anywhere."

"Which is why we we are just going to pull over now," Dean replies with finality. "Seriously, I get that your hellbent on finding Cas, I miss the guy too, but we're not going to _find_ him just by sitting in the Impala driving in the rain where we could potentially die in an accident."

_This isn't about Cas_, Sam wants to snap at Dean but he isn't sure if he has the resolve to lie right now. He's too tired to even fight properly. "Fine," he mutters darkly, slouching down in his seat. "Whatever." He doesn't bring up the fact that Dean raises a very valid point. They're never going to find Castiel if they just keep moving.

* * *

_We were grounded by a rainstorm. Dean found a place called the Elysian Fields._ Sam sends before picking at his food in disinterest. Dean's watching him in that way they've both learned to watch without being obvious, but really is because Sam knows everything about Dean.

"Are you going to ask or not?" Sam asks, sighing heavily as he pushes his plate away from him. He knows Dean's been _dying_ to know what's up with Sam for the last few days and Sam is kind of tired of being stared at, especially since he hasn't done anything wrong.

Dean opens his mouth to snap at Sam, annoyance on his face for being caught out, but clenches his jaw shut instead. Sam's starting to think he might not speak but Dean surprises him. "What the hell is going on between you and Cas?" He asks, eyes narrowed. "And don't say _nothing_ because I saw you two outside that warehouse."

"What do you want me to say, Dean?" Sam snaps before he glares at his older brother. "That you're just being paranoid because you're jealous Cas likes me more than he likes you? Or do you want me to tell you that Cas and I are having se-"

"Oh God, mental images," Dean says and Sam shuts up in favor of just bitchfacing Dean. "And ha! I knew it! And it's totally not paranoia since you two really are – Ugh. Really, Sam? _Really_? _Cas_? Of all the people - "

"What's wrong with Cas?" Sam asks defensively, and Dean gives him a look that says _if you don't know, I'm not telling_. Sam knows he really shouldn't pull up the Bad Mistake Girls Dean's slept with in the past because, hello, Ruby is at the top of his own list, but he doesn't understand what Dean's got against Castiel. "_What_?"

"_Nothing_!" Dean snaps back, glowering at Sam over his pie. "He's just so – argh. He's _Cas_."

It isn't until Dean's cheeks flush despite his annoyance that Sam realizes Dean is jealous. Dean has always gone out of his way to give Sam whatever he wants and even though they're not kids anymore, Sam is still taking everything that Dean considers his own. Castiel rose Dean from Perdition and he's probably the only real friend Dean's ever had and Sam's been acting like Dean doesn't even care.

Sam suddenly feels even worse now; ten minutes ago he wouldn't have even thought it possible.

* * *

If there is one good thing about trying to figure out how to stay alive and not be eaten by Pagan Gods it's that he doesn't have time to worry about whether Castiel is okay or not. He'll probably feel guilty about it later, he's sure, but there isn't any time to right now.

* * *

Gabriel hesitates before he leaves to get their blood back from Kali, like he can't quite make up his mind about whether he should say something or not. Sam squirms under the intensity of the Archangel's gaze and he can feel Dean tense up beside him. It's weird, because he's pretty sure Gabriel's avoided looking at him all night thus far.

"Don't you have something you should be doing, Gabriel?" Dean asks, and yeah, he's pissed but Gabriel's face breaks out into a scowl as he looks over at the oldest Winchester.

"I'm getting to it," Gabriel says, rolling his eyes before pointing a finger at Sam. "You should be ashamed of yourself, Sammysaurus Rex."

Sam's completely thrown off by the comment, and he isn't even sure why he's supposed to be ashamed of. Not to mention, oh my God, what the hell had Gabriel just _called_ him? "What are you on about now?" He asks through clenched teeth.

"I wasn't going to mention it because this is my baby brother we're talking about," Gabriel says lazily, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smile. "You're _covered_ in Castiel. You two really should learn subtlety. Where is he, anyways?" Gabriel pauses and looks genuinely surprised that he's just now noticed Castiel isn't lurking nearby awkwardly.

"He's not around," Dean snaps back harshly at the same time Sam asks, "I'm _what_?"

"You, Gigantor," Gabriel says slowly, lifting his hands to gesture at all of Sam in a vague manner, "Are completely covered in Castiel." When Sam and Dean just continue to stare at him, Gabriel rolls his eyes again. "His essence, his angel mojo! You're like a shining beacon and it's _screaming_ that you've been doing naughty things with my little bro."

Sam actually blushes when Gabriel waggles his eyebrows at him, sputtering uselessly. "Don't you have blood to be retrieving?" Sam spits, trying to reign in his embarrassment.

"You are no fun whatsoever," Gabriel pouts – actually _pouts_ - before he snaps himself away.

"Don't you dare," Sam snaps at Dean, who can't seem to make up his mind on whether he wants to be amused or disgusted. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Whatever you say, Sammy," Dean says, trailing after him.

* * *

_Gabriel is dead._ Sam types slowly, fingers hesitating before he hits 'Send'. He doesn't know why he keeps doing this to himself, messaging Castiel. If the angel was capable of getting back to them he would have done it by now. It's been over a week. Still, he can't stop himself from messaging him. _He saved us, though, and he told us how to end it all._ Sam adds before he hits 'Send'.

Sam refuses to give up on Castiel. He is going to find the angel again, even if it's the last thing he does.

* * *

Sam knows he shouldn't be thinking about it, but the thought has been playing itself out in his mind for the last few hours. His cellphone is laying on the pillow next to him, but he's watching Dean sleep, rather than it for once. He thinks it might be progress but he isn't sure since he still can't bring himself to close his eyes.

Bobby was possessed once but he managed to regain control of his body. If they can find the last two Horseman of the Apocalypse they'll still need a way to trap Lucifer inside of his cage. It starts off as a wayward thought, but Sam wonders if he might be able to do the same thing as Bobby. He wonders if he can be stronger than Lucifer, at least for a little while. Long enough for it to count.

Dean would kill him if he knew what Sam was even entertaining the idea. They didn't fight this hard at saying 'no' just to say 'yes' at the eleventh hour.

Sighing heavily, Sam rolls onto his back and tries to force his mind blank. He isn't sure how long it takes, but only that, eventually, he falls asleep because he wakes up with the sun shining on his face through the cracked window curtains. Today is going to be a long day.

* * *

Sam doesn't call Dean a hypocrite even though he sorely wants to. Instead he chooses to sit on a rickety chair in the kitchen and bitches to Castiel, and even though the angel isn't there it still makes him feel kind of better. He's sure Castiel would feel the same were he around, anyways.

_Dean's run off with Crowley to get Pestilence's ring._ Sam sends, his fingers flying over the keyboard. _He's left me alone in Crowley's new place. I think it might collapse on me._ and _I miss you Cas. Please come back._ follow shortly after.

_Please_, he says.

* * *

Sam's too tired to be pissed off. As far as he's concerned, his entire life has been a lie – at least, all of the life that was his at college. Brady, his ex-best friend wasn't even _Brady_. Sam wants to feel like screaming or smashing something or maybe even bursting into tears like the girl Dean is always accusing him of being but he doesn't think he has it in him at this point.

He's got a nagging feeling in him and he clutches his cellphone tightly in his hand as he resists the urge to send another message to Castiel. A part of him can't help but feel like maybe Brady was right, maybe he isn't anything more than Lucifer's vessel. Maybe he doesn't deserve Castiel. Maybe – he can't quell the thoughts now that they've started and a part of Sam thinks _maybe_ they haven't heard from Castiel because Castiel _knows_. He knows he's too good for Sam, knows that Sam doesn't deserve him.

Sam bites back the bitter nausea tumbling around in his stomach and forces himself to look out the window of the Impala and focuses on trying not to think. It's redundant but he can't think about this now. He doesn't want to think that the reason Castiel didn't say "I love you" back is because he was disgusted by Sam, but it's all he can focus on.

* * *

_I'm sorry for everything. All of this is my fault._

_I messed up bad, I know I did. Please don't hate me for this._

_I'll make it up, somehow. I'll figure this out. I'll make it right._

and

_I love you, Cas._


	7. No eleventh hour reprieve

Title: No eleventh hour reprieve, part six b of six  
Author: **sephirothflame**  
Rating: Hard R  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester  
Warning(s): Language, Angst, AU, Sam's a whiny bitch who texts too much, Adult Situations  
Spoiler(s): Through 5.22, "_Swan Song_" just to be safe  
Prompt(s): N/A  
Word Count: Approx. 5,650  
Beta Reader: **waveringphoenix**  
Rants: This has got to be the longest, porniest thing I've ever written. The full chapter is just shy of 9K, but since that's as long as the first five parts this is split into part six a and part six b.  
Summary: Sam hasn't heard from Castiel since he vanished from the warehouse. When he shows back up, Sam's determined to make every moment count, even if the end is extremely freaking nigh.  
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.

* * *

Sam's heart absolutely does not break because, when they finally hear from Castiel, he called Dean. Sam's heart does not break because Sam is _not_ a twelve year old girl no matter how often Dean insists that he is. He doesn't even care that Castiel didn't ask about him, because he's totally _fine_.

Besides, there are more worrisome things to worry about than whether or not Castiel is breaking up with him – which, just sours Sam's mood further because he isn't even sure if Castiel knew that's what Sam wanted and meant. Still, bigger fish to fry. Like the fact that Castiel is now apparently human now and is on his way to meet them and he'd rather talk to Dean than Sam.

_No!_ Sam thinks, digging his nails into his palms. He is _not_ a twelve year old girl! He refuses to act like a spited girlfriend just because – because there was nothing to be upset about. They're about to gank Pestilence and that's a very stupid thing to do and it needs his full attention, lest he or Dean mess up and get them both killed in the process.

With their luck, it would totally happen.

* * *

Sam nearly jumps out of the uncomfortable plastic chair when he feels his cellphone vibrate against his hip. He definitely does _not_ make a startled sound that may or may not have been a squeak. He glares at Dean's bemused expression before he checks his phone.

He's got one text message from Castiel, and Sam's heart thuds loudly in his chest but that _doesn't_ make him a _girl_. He's just startled, is all. _Will you be upset if I do not reply to all of your messages individually when a single message will suffice?_ Castiel asks him.

_I guess that depends on what your message is._ Sam types back, trying to look casual under Dean's suspicious glare. He does feel a little bad, because in hindsight, he did send the angel a _lot_ of text messages (voice mails, too) over the last few days. He isn't sure if the angel's cellphone even has room for them all.

"You texting Cas?" Dean asks, his tone forced casual. Sam shrugs, then nods. There's no point in lying to his older brother at this point. "He got anything useful to say?"

"I don't know, I'm waiting for him to reply," Sam answers and as if on cue, Sam's cellphone vibrates in his hand.

_I am fine. I don't hate you. I am still trying to read through your messages. There are a lot of them. It is endearing._ Castiel replies, and Sam smiles widely.

He can hear Dean bitching about something but he's too busy typing to snap at him. _I'm glad. I was worried about you. Obviously. You still on the plane?_ Sam sends, after quickly after giving it a cursory glance for typos.

_I am on a bus. The people are very strange. One woman keeps showing me pictures of her cats._ Castiel responds, and Sam can almost hear his confused tone, wondering why the woman would show strangers pictures of her cats, head tilt going on and everything. Sam really kind of misses that head tilt.

_Sounds like a party. Don't drink or eat anything offered to you. Someone might try to drug and kidnap you._ Sam replies, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

Castiel is talking to him. Castiel doesn't hate him and is talking to him. There was probably a reason Castiel called Dean instead of Sam, and even if there wasn't, it didn't matter because they were good. Oh, and Sam Winchester is _still not a girl_. He can be happy and giddy if he damn well wants to be, because Castiel doesn't hate him.

Even though now really isn't the time to be feeling any of that because they're supposed to be keeping an eye out for Pestilence right now.

Sam can't help but smile when Castiel texts back. _Thank you, Sam. I will keep that in mind._

* * *

Sam doesn't care that they're surrounded by dead people or that Dean is standing two feet away, Sam pulls Castiel to him by the lapels of his jacket and kisses him desperately. Castiel is startled at first, but he slips his hands to Sam's waist and reciprocates the kiss willingly. Their tongues trace together fervently for a long moment until Dean bangs his hand on the wall and they part for air, turning to glare at him.

"Now _really_ isn't the time for this," Dean says through clenched teeth. He's glaring daggers at the two of them, but Sam rolls his eyes and tugs Castiel back to him for another kiss. "Seriously guys? _Seriously_? Can we at least get the hell out of dodge before you try to get down each other's throats?"

"He has a point," Sam murmurs against Castiel's lips, resting his forehead against the smaller angel - _man's_, he corrects himself, forehead.

"I'm not particularly inclined to care," Castiel replies, pressing his lips against Sam's again and they kiss lazily for a minute before Dean storms off in an angry huff. Sighing, Castiel pulls away from Sam to look down the hall at Dean's retreating back. "Is it possible that Dean would leave us stranded here?" He asks.

Sam thinks about it for a minute before he nods his head. On a good day, Dean might have been inclined to wait but after the look he'd just given them it was better not to chance it. "Come on, Cas," He says, slipping his fingers between Castiel's before tugging them in the direction of the exit.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" Sam asks. Castiel looks startled to see him, but the half empty bottle of scotch sitting next to him on the hood of the Impala probably has something to do with that. Sam moves to stand between the 'v' of Castiel's legs before leaning down to kiss him gently, ignoring the burn of alcohol on Castiel's tongue.

"I hate this," Castiel murmurs against Sam's lips when they part for air and Sam has to agree. They kiss again, languidly, and Castiel slips his hands up under the hem of Sam's shirt to grip at the hot skin of his hips. "Where are Dean and Bobby?" He asks.

"They're putting the final touches on the game plan for tomorrow," Sam replies, shrugging his shoulders. "I thought I'd check on you, make sure you hadn't wandered off or decided to drink yourself into oblivion."

"I'm working on it," Castiel says, moving one hand from Sam's waist to grab the bottle of scotch. He pops the top off with one hand before he takes another swig of it. He passes the bottle to Sam who hesitates for a second before knocking it back as well.

"Maybe you should lay off for now," Sam says, passing the bottle back and Castiel puts the cap back on. "You don't want to wake up hungover."

Castiel considers Sam for a moment before looking at the heavy glass bottle in his hands. "Maybe," Castiel agrees finally, setting the bottle down at his side. He slips down the hood of the Impala a few inches and tugs Sam closer before he kisses the youngest Winchester again.

Sam can taste the scotch on Castiel's tongue as they kiss, as well as the hamburgers they'd had for dinner. He still tastes the same underneath it all, he's still Castiel, even if _something_ is off about it. Something is missing but Sam doesn't care because Castiel moves to kiss Sam's jaw and he tries to unbutton Sam's shirt.

"Cas, we can't have sex on the Impala," Sam laughs, tangling his fingers in the smaller male's hair and tugging his head back gently. Castiel makes a frustrated sound before he kisses Sam again and continues with the buttons.

"Can we have sex in the Impala?" He asks, pressing his hands against Sam's bare chest, stroking up and down his skin gently.

"Dean will kill us," Sam says, but he can feel his resolve crumbling. Castiel is staring up at him intently like Sam's the only thing in the world, and his fingers ghost over Sam's nipples, teasing, before he scrapes his nails over them. Sam makes a choked sound before grinning. "What the hell, he doesn't need to know."

Sam barely makes it into the backseat before Castiel clambers into his lap and starts to kiss him again. It's more demanding than earlier and Sam is more than willing to let Castiel take control, moaning obscenely when the smaller male starts to suck on his tongue.

Sam pushes Castiel's trench coat and suit coat off before shrugging out of his jacket and already unbuttoned shirt. Castiel makes a sound of approval and leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses across Sam's jaw and neck, nipping lightly with his teeth occasionally, before sucking at a spot at the juncture of Sam's neck and shoulder.

Sam laughs, breathless, but he throws his head back to give Castiel more space and tries to unbutton the ex-angel's shirt without looking. And for the most part, he can, but Castiel's moved onto his collar bone, one handed tangled in Sam's hair and the other tweaking a nipple and fuck if Sam can even think anymore. Sam doesn't bother to take off the tie, just loosens it enough that it won't choke Castiel before he rocks his hips up against Castiel's and they both groan loudly.

"You sure you want to do this?" Sam asks, gripping Castiel's hips tightly as he continues to grind up into him. He should feel bad, Castiel deserves better than losing his virginity in the backseat of a car, but Sam isn't sure if he's got the strength of resolve to make it to the nearest bed. He wants Castiel _now_, Goddammit.

"Do not make me have to hurt you, Sam," Castiel says between leaving one red mark on Sam's neck and the next. Castiel has this thing about marking Sam. Sam's kind of surprised that he actually likes it – he isn't used to having a reminder of something good.

"Right," Sam groans, slipping his hands to finish unbuttoning Castiel's shirt before moving to undo his buckle and slacks as well. "In which case, you're wearing entirely too much clothing."

Castiel grunts his agreement before pushing himself up from Sam enough to shimmy out of the last of his clothes, tie notwithstanding, toeing off his socks and shoes in the process. Sam takes the opportunity to quickly undo his own belt and jeans before hooking his fingers in his boxers and slipping them down his own legs. Tugging Sam forward by his hair into another kiss, Castiel settles back down onto Sam's lap, his knees digging into Sam's side as he rocks against him, their erections rubbing together hot and hard.

_Fuck_, Sam thinks, because he isn't entirely sure he ever thought it would come to this. Not that he's complaining. He can't think of anything sexier than Castiel panting into his mouth between desperate kisses and rocking against him like he might just die if he doesn't. Sam can feel his orgasm building up, a warm sensation at the base of his spine and he's pretty sure he could come from the rutting frottage like a horny teenager. He's almost tempted to do it.

Still, Sam spreads his own legs farther and successfully manages to do the same to Castiel's. "Suck," He says, pressing three fingers against the smaller male's lips when they part for air and Castiel obeys instantly, too buzzed to be confused.

Sam watches Castiel's brow furrow in concentration as he laves the fingers with his tongue before sucking at them obscenely and okay, Sam can kind of see why Castiel liked that. His free hand strokes up and down the small of Castiel's back, and when he decides his fingers are slippery wet enough he pulls them from Castiel's lips and slips them between the fallen angel's thighs. Sam can feel the intensity of Castiel's gaze on him when he presses one finger against Castiel's hole. He tenses up when Sam tries to press it in, Castiel's fingers digging painfully into Sam's hair and forearm.

"Ssh," Sam says, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of Castiel's lips. "It's okay, baby. Relax." Sam can feel Castiel's hesitation before he obeys, loosening his grip on Sam and relaxing against him. Sam's finger slips in easily enough after that and _Jesus_, Castiel is tight. "I've got you, Cas," he continues to murmur. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Castiel is uncomfortable, Sam can feel it and he whispers against Castiel's cheek soothingly as he strokes his finger in and out slowly, pressing soft kisses to Castiel's cheek and jaw. Castiel tenses up again when Sam slips a second finger in, but he relaxes easily enough into it. Sam peppers Castiel's throat and jaw with gentle kisses and the knuckles of his free hand are massaging up and down Castiel's spine. By the time Sam slips his third finger in, Castiel is ready for it and he moans loudly when Sam fucks him slowly with his fingers.

"Sam," Castiel gasps, bracing one hand against the roof of the Impala and the other on Sam's shoulder. "_Please_," he begs, panting heavily as he rocks down onto Sam's hand.

He groans loudly when Sam slips his fingers out, nudging Castiel's hips up so he can slip further down the seat. His knees are brushing against the back of the front seat and the top of the backseat is digging into Sam's neck, but there's no way he could move if he stayed in the previous position. Gripping Castiel's hips tightly with one hand, he lines them up before looking up into Castiel's eyes.

"You gotta tell me if hurts," He says, and Castiel nods his head slowly. Sam licks the palm of the hand that isn't gripping Castiel's sweat slicked hips before he strokes himself. There's no way this isn't going to hurt Castiel with only spit and precum to ease into this but he doesn't know if he can stop at this point.

Gripping Castiel's hip with one hand, Sam guides him down slowly until the head of his cock slips into Castiel. Castiel tenses up, nails digging into Sam's shoulder and his breath shudders. Sam moves to press soft kisses against Castiel's throat while they wait and it only takes a minute for Castiel to relax enough to ease himself down the rest of Sam's length. Sam groans and digs his fingers into Castiel's hips, letting his head loll on the rear dash.

"_Jesus Christ_, Cas," Sam moans, eyes fluttering shut. "You're so Goddamn _tight_." He wants to move, _needs_ to move but he doesn't dare. Castiel is making soft pained sounds as his fingernails dig deeper into Sam's shoulder and Sam can feel his muscles clench and unclench around Sam and _fuck_ if that isn't awesome.

"Sam," Castiel says, his voice strained, a pathetic sound passing through his lips. Sam's about to nudge Castiel up enough so that he can pull out, murmuring against Castiel's skin they don't have to do this when he feels Castiel finally relax. The bones in Castiel's fingers pop when he flexes them out and he closes his eyes. "_Sam_," He moans again, pressing down further onto Sam.

Sam's not an idiot, he can take a hint. He moves his hands to get a better grip on Castiel's hips, hands slipping over the sweaty skin, and he has a hard time holding on. Sam manages to get Castiel to move up before pulling him back down, slow and shallow thrusts that leave Castiel moaning pathetically as he follows Sam's lead. It's sweet and gentle, something Sam hasn't done in longer than he can remember, since Jess at least, but he doesn't want to hurt Castiel.

Castiel. Sexy, sweaty, debauched Castiel. _His_ Castiel. Sam can't take his eyes off of the fallen angel and he watches Castiel's eyelids flutter and sweat trail down his jaw before he moves a hand to tug Castiel's tie and drag him down into a kiss. Castiel grunts into Sam's lips, digging his nails into Sam's shoulder again before he moans "_harder_" into Sam's mouth.

Sam is more than willing to comply and he grips Castiel's hips tightly again, shifting Castiel's weight to change the angle and Sam starts matching Castiel's movements with thrusts of his own. Castiel moans brokenly, pathetic, before he gives in and lets Sam take all the control. Sam's thrusts are hard and fast as he pants into Castiel's neck, and the smaller male grunts in reply, digging his teeth into Sam's flesh again.

"Touch yourself," Sam says into Castiel's neck between kisses. Castiel uncurls his fingers from their grip on Sam's shoulder to move between them and Sam rests his forehead against Castiel's shoulder to watch the fallen angel move his hand in clumsy motions over his own cock.

Sam moans and buries his face in the crook of Castiel's neck and shoulder before thrusting harder. Sam slips further off of the seat and fuck if they both aren't going to be ridiculously sore after this. The angle changes again and this time when Sam bucks up into Castiel the smaller male shudders and _mewls_ at him. Sam can't keep a good grip on Castiel's hips anymore, his hands sliding down sweat slicked thighs but that doesn't stop him from thrusting into Castiel hard, angling for the spot that's slowly turning Castiel into a puddle of goo.

A few thrusts and a strangled cry later, Castiel is coming all over his hand and both their chests, clenching tightly around Sam's cock. He practically melts on top of Sam, completely boneless as he slumps forwards and wraps his arms around Sam's neck. Sam makes a pathetic sound as he tries to ignore the burn in his arms and thighs. Castiel is deadweight, Sam can't move him at all, but it only takes few grinding thrusts before he's coming inside of Castiel and going limp as well.

"I love you," Sam whispers against Castiel's skin, wrapping his arms around Castiel's hips in a loose hug. Castiel makes a pleased sound that vibrates through his chest before he sighs heavily and nuzzles his face into the crook of Sam's neck. "Dude, we can't sleep here," He says but Castiel makes a frustrated sound before nipping at Sam lightly. Sam sighs, before letting his eyes slip shut. "Fine, but only for a minute."

Sam swears Castiel purrs at that.

* * *

"What the hell, Sammy?" Dean snaps. Sam barely remembers to button his jeans before he whirls around to stare at his fuming older brother. "I swear to _God_ if you had sex in my baby..." His voice trails off into a strangled sound when Castiel turns around, and Sam can see a smirk on the fallen angel's face.

"You swear _what_?" Castiel prompts, his gaze unmoving from Dean even as he did up the buttons on his shirt. He's smug and facetious and Sam would laugh if he wasn't so scared that Dean was going to explode and kill them both.

"_You_," Dean says, ignoring Castiel to wheel around and jab a finger at Sam spitefully, "are paying for my baby to be detailed." His cheeks are flushed in anger, and maybe embarrassment – a minute earlier and he'd probably have caught the two of them naked – and Sam has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "I fucking hate the both of you," he spits before he storms off.

"Not even a high five for getting lucky?" Sam calls after Dean, unable to resist himself. Dean responds via a single finger over his shoulder and Sam snorts back laughter. "Well, we're lucky to be alive."

Castiel makes a noncommittal noise before he hands Sam his shirt and jacket. "I wonder what he came outside for," He says softly, watching Sam dress slowly, a lazy smirk on his face. He pulls on his suit coat and trench coat before Sam pulls him into a kiss, and Castiel hums happily.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Sam murmurs, before kissing Castiel again. Sighing, Sam rests their foreheads together and he can feel rather than see Castiel's soft smile. "We should probably hurry up and head back inside."

"In a minute," Castiel replies, moving one hand to the back of Sam's neck before kissing him again. It's slow and lazy and if Sam thought he was in love before, he knows he is for sure now.

* * *

Sam's sitting shotgun in Bobby's truck, eyes half lidded as he watches the road speed by in front of him. They're not talking, Bobby, Castiel and he and Sam is actually enjoying the silence for once. The radio is playing static with the occasional snippet of a classic rock song thrown in for good measure and the engine isn't so much as purring as groaning in protest. Still, Sam grew up in cars and the familiarity is almost enough to put him to sleep.

Sam wants to sleep. He hasn't really had the chance to in a few weeks, since before Castiel went missing. He'd only got a few scattered hours here and there when his body gave up protesting and he just blacked out. Sam can feel Castiel's gaze on the back of his head though and occasionally Sam can feel Bobby starring at him as well, though both of them for entirely different reasons. It's difficult to sleep when people are starring at you, Sam decides.

Rolling his head to the left, Sam catches Bobby glancing at him before the older hunter snaps his head back to the road and Sam feels something warm spread in his chest. Sam doesn't remember the last time someone looked at him with a proud glint in their eyes. Sam's pretty sure it has something to do with the way he saved all of those civilians from the warehouse instead of leaving them to the Croates or blowing them up.

Smiling lazily, Sam glances into the rear view mirror and catches Castiel's gaze. The warmth in his chest travels instantly downward to Sam's groin and the hunter almost blushes. Castiel's staring at him so intently, brow furrowed before he licks his lips and Sam swallows before he licks his lips as well. They continue to stare at each other in the rear view mirror for a few more minutes before Sam forces himself to tear his eyes away.

Bobby may love Sam like a son, but Sam sincerely doubts he'd appreciate Sam eye-fucking Castiel in the backseat. Hell, Sam wouldn't be surprised if the older hunter threatened to shoot them or kick them out on the side of the road to make them walk back to Bobby's place.

Sam chances one last glance in the mirror but Castiel is looking at him, rather than his reflection, and he allows himself a small smile. It's nice to know that Castiel doesn't hate him, even after last night, and Sam can feel his heart flutter in his chest when he thinks about the smaller male.

Sam had been right to think they would both be sore that morning, Castiel more so than Sam, but Castiel had just flashed him a sleepy smile before nuzzling closer into Sam's chest. They had stolen the bed in Bobby's guest room. Dean had looked like he wanted to hit one or both of them before he grabbed his bag and stormed back downstairs into the living room.

Pulling out his cellphone, Sam weighs it in his hand for a moment before he can decide what to text Castiel in the backseat. His fingers move over the keyboard quickly when he decides what to send, smiling despite himself. Dean can fuck himself, Sam is not a girl. He thinks that was made pretty obvious last night.

_I love you._ Sam had sent, and he watches Castiel in the rear view mirror, waiting for his reaction. The fallen angel seems startled when his cellphone vibrates loudly in his pocket but his lips twist into a small smile when he reads it. He glances into the rear view mirror to meet Sam's gaze and Sam's almost positive that Castiel blushes before he ducks his head and starts typing a response to Sam.

_I know._ Sam's phone says a moment later and Sam's heart pounds loudly in his chest. _I love you as well._

* * *

Sam's hand traces lazily up and down Castiel's sweaty side as he listens to someone traverse up and down the stairs down the hall. Whoever it was – and Sam would bet dollars to doughnuts it was Bobby – doesn't seem to care that the first, fourth, ninth and tenth steps groaned loudly whenever any weight at all is applied on them. The sound is keeping Sam awake.

Castiel is using Sam's arm as a pillow, his breath tickling Sam's inner elbow, the tips of Sam's fingers starting to tingle and go numb, but Sam can't bring himself to tell Castiel to move. Castiel is a warm, solid weight and he doesn't seem to care that Sam is curled around him, tangling their legs together and nuzzling into his hair. After how exhausted Castiel was earlier, Sam figures it's for the best to let him sleep, even if he is slowly losing feeling in his arm.

That, and they'd discovered the bed protests loudly when either of them shifts. Sam had known the bed was loud from previous attempts of sleeping on it and he figures if Bobby and Dean had ever had any doubt at all that Sam and Castiel weren't together before, they certainly wouldn't now. He isn't sure if he can look either of them in the eye tomorrow.

"You think too loudly, Sam," Castiel murmurs against Sam's arm, his breath warm and moist against Sam's skin.

"You can hear me?" Sam asks, shock traveling through his system. His surprise must be evident in his tone because Castiel sighs heavily before rolling over to face Sam, the bed groaning loudly in protest as he moves.

"It's just an expression," Castiel says, fighting back a yawn and Sam kisses his forehead softly and tries not to let his disappointment show. "You should go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day."

"I know," Sam sighs and Castiel cranes his neck to kiss him properly. They stay like that for a while, lazily exploring each other's mouths in a languid kiss, breaking shortly for air before pressing their lips together again. "I love you," Sam murmurs, because he can't help himself, and Castiel hums agreement into his lips.

"Go to sleep, Sam," Castiel yawns, tucking his head under Sam's chin and wiggling closer, wincing as the bed groans beneath them. Sam's arm is still pinned under the fallen angel but at least he can bend it at the elbow now without hitting Castiel in the face, and he wraps his free arm around Castiel's hips loosely and tangles their legs together again.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam mutters as he closes his eyes. He doesn't intend to actually fall asleep, but he welcomes it gladly when he feels the darkness start to wash over him. "Night, Cas," He sighs, but he's out before he can hear if Castiel responds.

* * *

Sam has to take a breath and count to ten to stop his hands from trembling as he puts the last of the demon blood into the trunk of the Impala. He hates this, he doesn't want to do this. He knows this was his idea but, dammit, everything was just starting to go his way for once. This much demon blood is going to seriously fuck him up.

Sam can feel Castiel staring at him, his dark blue eyes boring a hole through Sam's flesh and into his soul, but Sam can't bring himself to look at Castiel. He doesn't want to know what the fallen angel is thinking. More than that though, he doesn't want Castiel to know he's scared.

* * *

The back of Sam's neck tingles as Castiel stares at him, but Sam refuses to look into the rear view mirror and catch his eyes. He's calmed down a bit, but his palms are still sweaty and he still feels jittery. He's relieved when Castiel finally drifts off to sleep in the backseat, and it's only then that Sam looks into the rear view mirror and watches him.

Sam likes the way Castiel's eyelashes look against his cheeks, and he looks ridiculously peaceful with his lips parted. He's so beautiful that Sam's heart hurts just looking at him. Castiel should never be seen like this, passed out and snoring softly in the backseat of the Impala. By rights, he shouldn't be able to sleep at all. If it wasn't for Sam and Dean, Castiel would still be an angel.

Sam bites back nervous guilt, but the can't tear his eyes off of his sleeping boyfriend. If they hadn't convinced Castiel to join Team Free Will... Sam knows he can't let himself think about this. It'll only start a self-deprecating spiral that will end with Dean either hitting him or calling him a little bitch.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean asks, startling Sam. He looks over to find his brother watching him under a furrowed brow, his expression ineffable in the darkness of the night. "You stare at Cas any harder and you might burn a hole through him."

Sam coughs nervously, then shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah, sorry, guess I just zoned out," He says, slouching down in his seat. "'m tired is all." He glances up to look at Castiel in the rear view mirror one last time before he lets his eyelids slip shut.

He doesn't think Dean believes him, but Sam finds he doesn't really care one way or the other. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he hears Dean muttering about stupid younger brothers thinking about having sex in the backseat of someone else's car. _Oh yeah_, Sam thinks, making a content sound. How could he have already forgotten about that?

* * *

Sam rubs at his face tiredly as he watches Bobby move away before he looks over at Castiel. He isn't saying goodbye, because that would imply he isn't ever coming back and Sam is going to fight tooth and nail to make sure he does. He hasn't fought this hard for so long to let Lucifer win now.

"You take care of these guys, okay?" Sam asks, moving to stand before Castiel. His heart is pounding in his chest, painfully sharp, and he has to fight back the urge to either pull Castiel towards him and never let him go or push him back against the brick wall and kiss him until they're both breathless.

"That's not possible," Castiel says, his tone ridiculously honest and Sam would laugh bitterly if his heart wasn't breaking. He looks so genuinely dismayed, big blue eyes shining pathetically that Sam doesn't bother to stop himself from reaching out and touching Castiel's cheek lightly.

Sam huffs out a bitter laugh and Castiel brings a hand up to stroke his thumb over the back of Sam's hand before curling their fingers together. "Then humor me," Sam says softly, letting his hand slip from Castiel's face without losing the contact between their fingers.

"Oh," Castiel smiles crookedly and he laughs dryly when he looks around them. "I'm supposed to lie," he says, catching Sam's gaze again, and Sam lets out another bitter laugh. "Uh, sure," Castiel continues, his tone strained as he forces himself to smile. "They'll be fine."

"Just – just stop talking," Sam replies, closing his eyes for a moment as he sucks in a breath. He shouldn't be surprised when Castiel drops his hand and grips the front of his shirt tightly to drag him into a kiss, but he kind of is.

Castiel is desperate and pathetic and he tangles his fingers in Sam's hair, tugging his head down to change the angle and deepen the kiss. Sam responds in kind as he wraps one arm around Castiel's waist and cupping the fallen angel's face with the other free hand. He nips at Castiel's lower lip lightly until his lips are parted and Sam plunges his tongue into the smaller male's mouth.

Sam can kiss Castiel forever he thinks, and he certainly would have tried to if Dean hadn't coughed loudly – a totally fake sound meant to get their attention more than anything else, to remind them that they're on a deadline here. Cheeks flushing slightly, Sam lets his hands drop from Castiel before pressing one last kiss to his puffy lips.

"I love you," Castiel murmurs quietly, slowly trailing his hand's down Sam's arms until their hands touch. He curls their fingers together and squeezes both hands once, tightly, before he steps away and lets Sam's hands slip out of his. His blue eyes are impossible to read, but Sam doesn't even care at this point.

It's his turn to whisper, "I know," and he doesn't care that his heart is thudding in his chest almost audibly because Castiel smiles, and it's beautiful.

* * *

The end.


End file.
